


Chase

by krizzlesandblues



Category: 2NE1, Big Bang (Band), Winner (Band)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Murder, Obsession, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-12-14 10:58:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21014660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krizzlesandblues/pseuds/krizzlesandblues
Summary: chasing freedom,liberty,a semblance of love, maybewithin the corona of flames.





	1. intro - return

**Author's Note:**

> _note: this fanfiction is a sort-of spin off from hitoshi's fic ["a place where the sun doesn't shine."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701325/chapters/46623751)(basically a fanfic of a fanfic LOL) it's not exactly canon to the original story's universe, although some elements have been borrowed._
> 
> _the author does not support nor condone violence, including the themes included in this story. furthermore, the characterizations of the persons involved are merely works of imagination, so do take this story with grainfuls of salt. **and if this isn't your cup of tea, feel free to not read at all.**_

The city hasn't changed much, the Rabbit muses. Still loose, still chaotic, still a perfect picture of sin and no morals—the city she grew up in.

Adjusting her sunglasses, she strolls around the familiar streets, noticing a few things here and there. More thugs waiting like sitting ducks on alleys, whores luring innocents and lustfuls in lipsticks and moans, high-profile looking gangsters wander the streets as if they owned them, and the never-fading scent of murder and hopelessness.

She smiles bitterly to herself. _How nostalgic. And how bittersweet._

The late afternoon lull somewhat comes into a halt when a group of rugged, terrified men sprint away clumsily, their eyes wide with fear and anger. Litanies of curses erupt from their mouths as they shove people away, not even hesitating to shoot or hit with their bats.

The Rabbit steps aside, not wanting for those disgusting thugs to ruin her clothes. What is going on?

And—

—she tenses, feeling the aura. _That_ aura.

Menacing and murderous, high and crazed with adrenaline and blood. When had she last felt this aura? She'd definitely sensed this, sometime ago, so familiar she can taste it on her tongue—

Slowly, she steps back into the shadows, thankful that her black clothes help her blend in. She can't risk anything, at least for now.

"Fucking, fucking cockless chickens!" she hears a man holler merrily, and she takes a peek.

Oh.

Two men stride a little too casually, one man armed with a katana on his back and an interesting piercing on his lower lip, the other swinging his small axes as if they are his playthings. Their posture scream of death, merciless death—or a crazed death, even.

Either way, the Rabbit knows it's a bad idea to try messing with them. Especially the one with the axes.

_Yet for some reason, why is his aura so...familiar?_

"Come out, you fucking chickens—ain't got the balls?" the man with the axes taunt, his grin so wide. "After you dare mess us up, you gotta leave us hanging? Bo-_ring_!"

"Sheesh, for fuck's sakes, hyung," the one with the katana mutters, rolling his eyes. "Quiet a little, will you?"

The Axe guy frowns—pouts, the Rabbit thinks—at him, then grins. "Oh well," he sighs, shrugging. "Maybe they want a little hide-and-seek?"

The Rabbit is interested to see how these men hunt for their prey. However, she realizes that she can't stay for too long, that she has to keep walking, walking, walking, all the way to the next city—

"You fucking idiot, why did you even start with him?" she hears a sharp hiss from behind. "It's the motherfucking _Beast_, for fuck's sakes!"

"He started it!" another reasons out. "Besides, that asshole's the real culprit here, why are you blaming me for this shit?!"

"Because this shit, you shithead, is something that will kill us—and fuck, the _Executioner_'s with him…"

The Rabbit assumes that the men from earlier are _Beast_ and _Executioner_, whoever they may be.

_Guess the whole nickname thing never faded, huh._

"They're just a bunch of crazy assholes, they're not fucking gods," another pipes in. "Not to mention they're outnumbered by us."

_Aren't they a nice, cute bunch of infants—_

"Hey, missy," someone says, and the Rabbit sees one of the thugs approaching her. "Just how much have you heard?"

_Oops._

The Rabbit backs against the mossy wall, biting her lip. "Um, not much…" she stammers.

"Oh...ya new?" the thug notices, then his eyes leer at her figure. "What a nice, pretty thing ya are."

_Aw. Fuck._

"Hey, whaddya see there—oh," another one whistles, noticing the thug's preoccupation. "Look what we got here."

"Talk about a piece of heaven in this shit of a hellhole," another man says. "Well, maybe it wasn't too bad to be chased by demons when you got an angel waiting~"

Boisterous, leering laughter bursts forth from them. The Rabbit feels disgusted and insulted by this.

_These scum, how dare they._

The thug—the Rabbit assumes he's the leader—slowly reaches out to touch her face. "Mind a little time for us, missy? Just a payment for eavesdropping—"

She can't resist. She pulls the thug's wrist with a gloved hand and twists it hard. So hard, he cries out in pain.

"Fuck—ARGH!" he groans, his face twisting in agony. "You bitch—!"

She quickly runs out of the alley, not wanting to fight. Oh she _can_, but—not now.

Not in her favorite black coat and boots—and not when the only weapon she has is her signature weapon.

She hears the rest of the men chase her, but she cares less. She has to find them—they can kill them for her instead.

Luck is on her side. She spots them nearby, lounging by the Lotus' entrance, as if waiting for someone.

She pauses for a minute, catching her breath. After a moment she straightens up, dusts off her coat, and saunters toward them.

_Executioner and Beast, right? One has a katana, the other has axes…_

"Um, excuse me?" she calls, waving a little to catch their attention. The one with the katana raises his head.

"What?" he growls, sounding annoyed.

The Rabbit doesn't let it get to her. "You've been looking for some thugs earlier, yeah?"

"And what about it?" he says, now seemingly bored.

She can now hear the thugs getting closer, their loud voices getting clearer. She tilts her head to the side, smiling. "Nothing. But I think they're gonna pass by here."

This catches the man with the axes' attention. "Excuse me, but what did you say?" he asks, an undercurrent of excitement in his voice.

"Those thugs. Gonna pass by here to say hi," she says, shrugging. "They're near now."

And sure enough, the thugs find her, their leader at the tail. "Found you, missy—"

They fail to notice their hunters' presence, distracted by her. But the moment an axe suddenly flies towards them and lands straight on the leader's chest, blood spurting out and a broken gasp from his mouth—

"Oh, so you really wanna play?" the man with axes says, smiling playfully. "Got bored with hide-and-seek, huh? Me too."

The thugs freeze with terror, faces blanching and cold sweat dripping. Meanwhile, the two predators prance towards them, weapons on their hands.

The Rabbit takes this as an opportunity to escape quietly—

—but she can't resist watching the bloody mayhem from a rooftop.

_How beautiful._

_How nostalgic._

She smiles wistfully. _I want to join too…_

**

From afar, someone watches the Rabbit sitting on the rooftop, her feet swinging in the air. The person looks down, curious, and sighs half-bitterly.

_Talk about hitting two birds with one stone._

That someone sighs quietly, leaning against the railing. Cries of pain and blades singing echo in the air, the reek of blood mixing with the familiar scent of the city.

_Stop running away, pretty Rabbit._


	2. Chapter 2

**warning ; repercussions | rabbit**

The Rabbit sighs, bored and sleepy as she watches the city from the receptionist's counter. She'd taken a job as some sort of a receptionist in a swanky hotel downtown since she needed money _and_ a cover. Of course she dresses the part—pretty and innocent-ish; who's innocent in this city, anyway?—not letting anyone know of her identity. She's only just to stay in the city for a while; she wanted to linger a little within the place she'd grown up in.

Needless to say, the city has become a bit boring for her—except for a few bits.

She'd learned more about the Beast and the Executioner whom she'd met days back, through the gossiping customers and people stopping by for coffee at the hotel lobby. Mad, insane, deadly assassins sent for assignments by "clients," killing for a living—and for fun, of course. The Rabbit had realized then that it was probably a good idea she had not joined in on the bloody mayhem at Lotus, although it looked fun.

However, there was something about the Beast—Lee Seunghoon, she'd learned his name—that seemed so familiar. The crazed darkness swirling around him, the confidence in his step while he held his small axes, the crazed glint in his eye—they were so familiar. Had she met him before, maybe in a brief passing—?

The buzz of her phone wakes her up from her thoughts, and she checks if there are any messages. Oh—her shift's over.

She stands up from her chair, grabs her coat and bag from the drawer and walks off to her boss's office. She knocks on his door just to get his attention—he's probably busy from another round of fucking with a hotel staff. Or with a hotel customer?

And judging from the moans and "Hmm, fuck—there—_ah!_" looks like it's easy for her to leave now.

"I'm off, boss!" the Rabbit hollers at the door, not bothering to open it.

"Yeah—_oh, nice, so tight_—see you—_ugh!_"

Her face twists in disgust and leaves the hotel. Oh well.

At least there's not much fuss.

She plops down on her couch face down as soon as she arrives at her apartment, still bored and sleepy. Her fingers itch to twist knives and fire guns, her body tingles for a fight and a bloody mess. However, she can't risk doing anything now, considering that she has to stay low.

A frustrated, irritated chuckle slips from her lips, remembering the very reason why she has to do so. Why she is _forced_ to do so.

She closes her eyes, trying to forget everything, to quell her thirst for violence and blood and the screams of her pitiful, pitiful victims pleading for a swift death—

She groans.

She's been thirsty for so long. Can she still endure it?

Maybe for one more day. And then she'll have to go to the next city.

-

But it's midnight, when darkness is at its peak and more opportunities to kill are present. And the Rabbit is so hungry for it—she's been repressed and fasting for so long, she's craving for the blood on her lips.

With a high, cheery giggle she slices off her last victim's head with her beloved long dagger, the blood and moonlight glistening on its blade. Sure, her hunt right now is quiet and within the shadows (unlike her usual MO), but at least her hunger is satiated.

She counts her prey. Eight bloody men with missing limbs or a head. Not bad for a group who tried to grope her earlier at the hotel.

And not _really_ bad, she notes with glee, as she steals wads of cash, some pretty gold, and oh, are those colorful things her favorite candy—?

She slowly stands up, her body alert and hands tight on the hilt of her weapons. Then she walks out of the alley. Out of the street. She walks faster—then sprints across the city's streets. She takes several detours and a few roundabouts and flights and flights of stairs until she comes to a full stop on a building rooftop.

She turns on her heel, her signature gun on her right hand, and sees the person she'd expected least to see.

_Motherfucking shit._

"You don't look the least bit happy to see me," that person remarks, smiling wryly at her. Her twin katanas gleam in the moonlight—weapons the Rabbit will never miss nor forget.

"What exactly are you here for?" the Rabbit hisses, eyes narrowed. "Still chasing me, Shadow?"

The Shadow shrugs. "I told you before, haven't I? He wants you—and he'll chase you to hell if need be."

"More like he'll send _you_ to chase me," the Rabbit mutters, making the Shadow laugh as a reply.

"What now?" the Rabbit asks, not lowering her gun. "Are you going to catch me?"

"Mm, nope, not yet," the Shadow smiles (and for some reason, the Rabbit is reminded how the Beast smiled gleefully at his prey). "More like I'm giving you another warning—or a hint. Probably."

"What hint?"

"Oh, sweetheart," the Shadow sighs, shaking her head. "Have you forgotten what it means when I'm around?"

The Rabbit pauses, trying to remember.

_Oh sweet, motherfucking piece of fucking, fucking, **fucking** shiiiiiiiit—!_

"Yes, _he's_ here," the Shadow tells her, seeing her expression. "Someone who goes by the name of Grim Reaper asked for his help—well, _their_ help—and he's all too willing. It's just a matter of time before the Squad's supposed target will be wiped out, though."

The Rabbit's grip on her gun tightens as she bites her lip in anger. _Should've left this shitty place fucking earlier, should've just continued walking instead of being distracted—_

"There's no use running away, little Rabbit," the Shadow says. "Either you fight or you give in. You can't run away from the Death Squad's leader—and you know that."

"Who the _fuck_ are _you_ to call me _little_, bitch?" the Rabbit snarls.

The Shadow purses her lips, looking a little chastised. "Oops."

The Rabbit clicks her tongue, irritated, the high from her hunt earlier fully evaporated into thin air. She knows she can't escape now, as the Death Squad's within the area, and she's more than aware of what they can do.

Especially _him._

But she's curious about one thing, though.

"Why are you not trying to catch me yet?" the Rabbit asks. "You have the opportunity now to bring me to him."

For a moment, the Shadow's face is wistful, her eyes sad as she gazes at her. She then turns her head to look at the city from above, and says softly, "I'm taking my time for now, just to watch my brother from afar. It's been a very long time—and anyway, don't you think this city is quite nostalgic?"

_Her brother?_

"Yes, I suppose," the Rabbit manages to reply.

A little smile plays on the Shadow's lips as she stares back again at the Rabbit. "Oh, well. Do heed my warning, Rabbit. It won't be long after this—after a burning and someone's freedom by death, you'll know what comes next."

_The Shadow and her cryptic messages again._

"No one can catch me, Lee Sunye," the Rabbit declares firmly, eyes hard. "Not even him."

The Shadow—Sunye—smiles. "I know that, Park Sandara. But I hope you also know he's the Death Squad's leader for a reason."

-

It was probably one of the biggest lapses Sandara had ever made. Or maybe it was her worst mistake yet.

It was just meant to be a little game for her—to try luring then killing the Death Squad's leader and his underlings. She had no other motive, other than to know how dangerous this elusive masked man was.

And God—he was _fucking_ dangerous. His members don't even match up to him.

And, well, Sandara—for the love of all that's unholy—fucking _loved_ it. It had the thrill of a challenge she'd never felt before, a rush she so wanted to experience all over again.

Subtle yet deadly, quiet and promising—a killer with no sense of morality nor humanity. The masked man wasn't exactly insane, she'd thought, but maybe just wanted to watch the world burn.

Sandara knew that.

She fucking loved _that._

And so much of it, so much of that burn, all her plans to rip off his head went down the drain—and almost ripped his hair off his scalp instead as they'd fucked blindly and senseless, Sandara screaming his name.

It was so good—felt so fucking _good_, she'd asked for more.

Until they'd both passed out, until the sun had set, until she'd sneakily escaped.

She doesn't do seconds, after all.

Maybe she should've known better, Sandara knows that, but even in this game of tag the thrill of it all never faded.

Even if her life—and freedom—is on the line.


	3. Chapter 3

**lurking ; hidden | shadow**

His words linger into her mind like they were branded deep into her brain, as if they were meant to be searing.

It was a precise, clear order not meant to be defied by anyone. Even by Fate.

“Bring the Rabbit to me, wherever the hell she is, dead or alive,” he’d commanded, his voice darker and deadlier. Then inching closer he’d added, “Or your brother loses his head.”

Of _course_ he would know that she had a brother, although she hadn’t mentioned it even once to him. And of _course_ he would want that woman—Rabbit, she’d learned her nickname—after everything that had happened.

But she’d never expected such intense command—to deliver someone to him in the exchange of someone’s life.

Was she that interesting?

Probably, looking back at what had happened. Being targeted all of a sudden by a rogue assassin then ending up tangled in each other’s’ arms—well, that would probably count as someone interesting.

After all, the Death Squad’s leader—Kwon Jiyong, aka _that_ lab rat who burned the facility to ashes—isn’t one to fall for a woman’s charm, or with her seduction. Nearly emotionless, a perfect killing machine, it was definitely him.

_Until Park Sandara. _

She’d never expected this level of interest from him, almost bordering into obsession. He’d ordered all his men to collect data about her, her origins and whereabouts and lifestyle and killing methods. 

And yes, this.

Right now, as the Shadow observes the Rabbit watching the Beast and Executioner finish off the thugs by Lotus, she wonders whether Jiyong knew she was here, or probably still somewhere far from the city. Still waiting for that specific client to come, and then do the client’s bidding.

She sighs.

For now, it’s probably better if he doesn’t know.

-

Needless to say, their first meeting at the city was nothing short of a fruitless ambush. Not that Sunye was planning to actually attack then abduct the Rabbit, as per the Death Squad’s leader’s order. She knows it’s almost impossible to even land a scratch on her target’s coat, especially that she was high after a hunt.

Well, regardless whether she’s high or not, the Rabbit never earned the reputation of being slippery and elusive as fuck for no reason.

But maybe giving her a hint would be more than enough. Or make her job easier. 

After all, Sunye knows that Park Sandara knows how fucking serious it will be when the Death Squad’s within a city. Sandara may be a little insane and too wild as a killer, but she’s not stupid to make a dumbass move.

Like moving to the next city, for example.

At least it will be easier for Sunye to look on Sandara from afar, memorizing all possible attacks to catch her ‘prey’ off guard.

Even if it means she may become the hunted ‘predator’ instead.

-

Sunye sips the last of her iced coffee as she strolls down the streets, observing the cityscape. Nothing interesting so far, except for a few changes she hadn’t noticed before. She has no weapons at hand today; she has no plans of attacking or killing anyone.

It will be a mistake to do so, with the Beast and Executioner within the area.

She passes by a bakery shop, hoping to buy some croissants to go with her coffee. To her delight, there were some left, so she hops inside to buy.

A tall, cute red-haired boy greets her, and the sight of him freezes her for a half-second.

_Wait—!_

“Hello,” he says, smiling sweetly. “How may I help you?”

_Oh. Not that one. Almost the same, but different. _

His eyes are familiar, though.

“Croissants,” she tells him, pulling up a smile. “I’ll buy all of it.”

“Okay.” He leans down to get the pastries while she looks at him.

_Not normal,_ she thinks. There’s something different about this boy, a kind of familiarity she can’t put her finger to.

A burly man enters the shop, wearing an apron. He smiles, seeing her, then turns toward the boy. “Deliveries done,” the man tells him. “Take care of the rest, Seungyoon.”

_Seungyoon? So that’s his name._

“Okay, hyung,” the boy replies, nodding, then gives the bag of croissants to her. 

“How much would that be?” she asks, and the boy named Seungyoon tells her the amount. She pays promptly, but just out of curiosity—

—she reaches out to pat his rosy cheeks softly. 

There’s a slight chill on his skin, and a very familiar tightening of his eyes, as if trying to sense danger.

She smiles inwardly. _I knew it._

The boy blinks at her, surprised and a little shy. “Miss?”

She can’t help a chuckle. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute,” she grins. “Red suits you, dear.”

“T-thanks,” he mumbles timidly, a dusting of pink across his cheeks.

_How adorable._

She pats his pinkish hand, smiling, feeling a little bittersweet. 

“Take care of yourself,” she says, then turns to leave the bakery.

_Poor child._

-

One night, as she walks back to the Death Squad’s temporary quarters, she hears screams and groans from a distance. She notices a few people or so scurrying away, panic clear on their faces. Intrigued, she ambles towards the ruckus.

_Holy fucking shit._

It’s a bloodbath, a twistedly beautiful scene of carnage. Blood and scattered limbs litter the floor, with more persons running away in fear.

“Fuck—move, _move_!!” they cry out as they escape from the gates of Hell, terrified.

As she approaches closer, a decapitated arm and several knives fly to her direction, and she quickly dodges away.

The knives, however, catch her attention. Sharp, jagged blades meant for a more torturous process of slicing flesh, making pain even more unbearable—

_Shit._

Only one person comes into her mind.

She looks up, and—

she skips away and hides at a corner, then watches him as he wipes out a whole group of men by himself.

The Beast, armed with knives and his favorite, beloved playthings—his small axes.

_Lee Seunghoon._

More broken, pig-like screams echo out from the building, with the occasional gasps, chokes, and pleas. She can almost hear blood trickling out from the victims’ mouths, being coughed out in agony.

And all too soon, it ends.

She hears heavy footsteps advancing towards where she’s hiding, and she immediately sinks herself further into the darkness. With all the remaining courage she has, she hides her presence, hoping that the Beast doesn’t detect her with his heightened senses.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. His seemingly unsatisfied hunger and fury to kill has fully distracted him.

She watches him from the corner as he walks out, blood dripping from his weapons and on the hem of his jeans. The familiar madness and energy emanating from him brings nostalgic feelings to her, remembering all those days when they were together.

Playing around, fighting around—their own version of having fun.

She closes her eyes, giving in to the sadness—

A fired bullet suddenly catches her attention, and she quickly swats it off with her katana. Emerging from her hiding place, she catches sight of one of the men struggling to stand up, shakily holding a bloody gun. He’s gasping heavily, choking up blood.

“Yo…u…fuck…ing…Be…ast,” he rasps between coughs. “Mo…ther…fuc…king…DIE…!!!!”

But he doesn’t even get the chance to fire the last bullet. His arm is sliced off by her katana, blood gushing out like a fountain.

He cries out in pain, turning to look at Sunye in shock. Annoyed with the noise, the latter slashes off his head.

“Fucking scum,” she spits, wiping her blade with one of the corpses’ suits. She steps out then gazes at the morbid art on the carpeted floor, a painting of Lee Seunghoon’s soul overflowing with an all-consuming anger and lust to annihilate.

With one last glance at the dead men she murmurs, “What have you done to my brother, now?”

-

“You’re late,” the masked man greets her by the hallway, seeing her. Even with the mask on the way, she knows he’s staring at her intently.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I got distracted by some chaos back there.”

“Whose chaos?”

There’s a short pause before she answers. “The Beast’s.”

He nods. “Ah.”

There’s another pause before he speaks. “You didn’t join in, Sunye?”

There’s _definitely_ a smile in his voice.

“It’s too late to join in. All of them are dead by the time I passed by,” she tells him, shrugging.

“Did he see you?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

_And she’d rather not be seen._

The masked man sighs, tipping his head a little. “There’s no way you can stay forever hidden, Sunye. Not when there’s an agreement between us.”

It takes a moment before the words finally sink into her mind.

_Ah._

_Fuck._

_He probably now knows._

“The agreement still stands, rest assured,” she says. “Do forgive me for saying this, but I hope you understand why I’m taking my time.”

This time, she knows he’s smiling—somewhat—behind the mask. “I do,” he tells her. “And anyway, I guess it’s not the right time for now. My client will visit soon, and I may need your help.”

_Thank fuck._

“I understand,” is all she can say. “Should I make my presence known to the client?”

“Your choice,” he replies. “Either way, depending on the arrangement, I’ll need your assistance, and after all this is over—go back to your original assignment.”

She sighs, nodding. “As you wish, sir.”

He sighs heavily, a little irritated. “Sunye, I told you to just call me Jiyong. Enough of that fucking formality.”

She purses her lips in embarrassment. “Sorry,”¬—she struggles for a second—“Jiyong.”

-

She recalls how Seunghoon ended those men mercilessly by himself for a reason she doesn’t know, how he walked away without even sparing a glance.

She remembers how Seunghoon had tried to kill her once with his axes, the desire to annihilate her and prove he was better burning in his eyes.

She sighs, playing with a knife on her hands. One of Seunghoon’s knives.

_I wonder how do I keep you alive—to have your blood glisten on my blades._

-

The client comes in a few days later.

From above, Sunye sees a pair of polished shoes, then faded jeans and a plain shirt. She can’t see the client’s face, partially hidden by his face mask.

“Oh, it’s you,” she hears Jiyong say in surprise. “I haven’t seen you for a while, 04.”

_04?_

“I’d say the same thing,” the client named 04 tells him. “I’m sorry I called on such a short notice.”

Sunye recognizes that voice. She’d heard it somewhere, within the city, when she’d bought those croissants—

She nearly falls off from her hiding place when 04 takes off his mask.

_Holy fucking mother of pastries—!!!_

“No worries on that,” Jiyong waves his hand dismissively. “What’s the transaction, 04?”

Sunye tries to quash off her shock and disbelief into the back of her mind, curiosity getting the best of her. Well, not that Jiyong will mind her eavesdropping.

_Wow, there’s no way that that cute baker will be Death Squad’s client—_

“It’s the whole Fox job thing,” 04—Seungyoon—sighs heavily, as if frustrated by something. “I’m at a loss on what to do now. Apparently, the hitman hired is reluctant to take the job for me.”

Wait, _Fox_? Where had she heard that name again?

An ironic chuckle bursts from Jiyong’s lips. “How odd. You’re this insistent to end your own Contractor, 04? Isn’t it a little too suicidal?”

_Contractor? Fox? Fox is his Contractor? What’s going on here?_

For a moment, Sunye is blank, feeling dumb. 

_Rumor has it that Fox has his own ‘Shadow,’ someone who kills for him whenever he’s in danger. Some say he’s not human, a killing machine. Others say that this Shadow is from the White Walls…and they call him Grim Reaper…_

The memory of touching Seungyoon’s cheeks crosses her mind—

Then an electrifying chill crawls from the tips of her toes up to her chest, her hands flying to her gaping mouth.

_There’s no way that this 04 is also the—!!!_

“I have my reasons,” Seungyoon says, his voice a little steely. Sunye’s predatory instincts kick in, a little miffed by his tone. It’s a natural impulse—after all, she was molded and raised to be the Death Squad’s leader’s blade just in case shit happens.

But the said leader takes no offense and says, “I see, I see. I’m not going to ask you about that—but I want to know, 04. Why do you wish to work with us?”

Sunye sees a smile crack on Seungyoon’s plush lips. “I figured that if you will be with me on this, it will make the hitman realize how _serious_ his fucking client is. Of course, I know what may or may not happen, but I believe there’s no more reason to take this lightly.”

Jiyong hums. “You know how we work, right?”

“I do.”

“How much we ask?”

“I do.”

“And what may happen?”

“I do.”

Sunye hears a smile from Jiyong. “You’re determined, I see.”

Seungyoon does not say anything, but his answer is clear.

“All right, we’re taking it,” Jiyong says after a moment, then stands up from his chair and pats Seungyoon’s shoulder. “You can expect our coordination with you from now on—just tell us what needs to be done and we’ll do it for you.”

“Thank you,” Seungyoon says. “Just…just warn my hitman that this is a serious business. That’s all. Do anything and everything in your power just to convince him, even if this involves my life.”

“…Your life?”

_What…what exactly is Seungyoon planning?_

A smile ghosts on Seungyoon’s lips. “Yes, my life. Don’t worry, I won’t bear any grudge about it.”

Jiyong is silent for a moment. “I’m afraid…” he says after a long while, “I do not understand.”

“I’d like to explain everything to you more, but I’m afraid I have to leave now—Hyung might come looking for me anytime soon,” Seungyoon says wryly, then hands Jiyong a brown folder. “Here’s the information you might need. My number’s there, so you may call me if there’s a need to.”

“All right, I understand,” Jiyong says, still sounding confused, and takes the folder. “Transfer the initial payment to my account tonight, and I’ll let you know if there’s something needed to be clarified.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

After a few more greetings Seungyoon leaves, then Sunye jumps down from her hiding place.

“Is he a familiar face to you, Sunye?” Jiyong asks.

“Well, he sold me croissants days ago at a bakery,” she tells him, watching Seungyoon’s back as he walks away. In Jiyong’s perplexed silence she says, “I’m sure that brown folder, whatever that may be, will fully explain the situation.”

“Such an enigma, that 04,” Jiyong finally says.

Sunye smiles in agreement. “That, he is.”

-

Later Sunye sees Jiyong shake his head to himself, reading the information filed within that folder.

“Why? What is it?” She hears Bae ask him.

“Nothing,” Jiyong replies, disbelief and a hint of awe coloring his voice. “This will be an interesting assignment, it seems.

-

Which Sunye learns later on, and such revelation had kept her awake all night.

-

Days pass and Sunye notices, after quite a while, that the Rabbit has seemingly sunk herself into a hole. No sightings, no traces—in fact, she hasn’t been working on that hotel anymore. Probably resigned. Or just got too bored.

Either way, Sunye finds this suspicious. _This isn’t a good sign._

But until the Death Squad’s assignment is over, she can’t lift a finger to start hunting for her.

It doesn’t mean she has to lower her guard, though.

-

As a request from Jiyong, Sunye usually stops by the bakery to check on Seungyoon. Sometimes she does a little stroll around the city, looking out for the Executioner—Song Minho, she’d learned his name—and the Rabbit.

Although, if she has to be honest, it’s easier to spy on the Executioner, considering that the Rabbit has gone MIA for some reason.

On her way back, she sees the Executioner seemingly on his way to the bakery, whistling, eyes sparkling and expectant. He doesn’t have his weapon with him, but the chilling, dangerous aura never left his confident stride.

No surprise there for her—she’s aware of his relationship with Seungyoon, after all.

She pauses a little, pretending to look over the baked goodies inside the paper bag while observing Song Minho from the corner of her eye.

_Tragic relationship, that is._

“Wait—excuse me,” she hears Minho call her, and she pivots on her heel then looks up at him.

“Yes?” she asks, smiling politely.

“Is Seung—I mean, is the red-haired baker there?” he asks, a smile on his lips. There’s a softness on the corner of his crinkling eyes—a softness she knows all too well.

_Ah._

“Yes,” she replies, holding up her paper bag. “He’d just sold me these.”

“‘Kay,” he grins. “Thanks!” Then he resumes his walk.

She can’t help clicking her tongue. _Oh dear._

-

She mentally does a headcount of people—targets—who may die in the coming days.

Seungyoon comes into her mind, and she sighs deeply.

_Poor child,_ she thinks.

-

One moment it’s just the Grim Reaper picking up the Fox’s head—the head of his Contractor—and walking towards where the Executioner, the Beast, and the Death Squad’s leader are.

The next moment it’s the Beast charging furiously towards him, his axes ready to attack. Seungyoon’s quick and agile enough to dodge his strikes, all the while cradling his Contractor’s head in his arms.

Sensing that Seunghoon won’t hold back to _really_ kill Seungyoon, Sunye jumps in and kicks him from behind, armed with her katanas. 

“Go now, Seungyoon!” she orders briskly. “You wouldn’t want to face the Beast weaponless.”

Seungyoon nods, quickly jogging away from the port. Seunghoon then rises up, quickly turning to swing an axe towards Sunye.

“You dare fucking show up again to motherfucking back up that disgusting _traitor_?!” he snarls, advancing dangerously towards her. “Just how fucking low are you, Sunye?”

She grins. “Not that low enough to satisfy you, Seunghoon.” Then she takes a swipe with one of her katanas, aiming to hit his leg.

Yet she misses by an inch, and she almost gets a hacking from Seunghoon.

She knows that Seunghoon’s half-mad with anger right now, thus his pretty unfocused attacks towards her. Then again, she knows better than lowering her guard and taking it easy, knowing him.

It’s a melody of clashing metal, gasps and grunts between the two as they dance with their respective blades, Seunghoon aiming for Sunye’s neck while Sunye blocking his axes with her swords. 

Admittedly, she has no plans of killing him—yet. Just dodges and blocks, that’s it. Just to bid Seungyoon some time to catch up with some of the Death Squad members who are headed towards Fox’s group—

“Don’t you fucking dare distract me with your dodging, you bitch,” he hisses. “I need to kill that motherfucking Grim Reaper first!”

_Oops. He’d noticed._

“Get me first, you fucking asshole!” she bites back, sweeping a kick towards his knees. She doesn’t fail this time.

He roars in irritation, his mien now a mask of monstrous anger. No more play time.

This time, Sunye heightens her offensive than her defensive, seeing that she’d enraged the Beast too much. 

“Do I have to fucking kill you first just to get that Grim—fucking—Reaper?!” he growls, his eyes now dangerous slits as he glares daggers at her. 

She smirks. “Why? Finding me too hard to defeat now, dearest brother?”

“SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP!”

And then it becomes a series of attempted slashing and whizzing knives with gashes and blood trickling in between.

At the corner of her eye, she catches Jiyong’s hand signal telling her to end it quickly. As much as she’d wanted to fight longer and maybe try to gift her brother with a fatal wound, she knows she has to stop. For now.

With a feint and a small knife jabbed at Seunghoon’s leg, she delivers a sharp kick against his temple and a forceful hit against his abdomen with the hilt of her sword. Making sure he doesn’t recover quickly, she kicks the side of his jaw with the heel of her boot, immediately crushing him down to the concrete, face down.

“You’re not the one who’ll kill Kang Seungyoon, Seunghoon,” she says gravely, fishing a tear gas container from her vest.

She takes a short glance at the Executioner who, ever since Grim Reaper came into the scene, is still yet to wake up from his shocked, confused, and distraught daze.

_An odd picture of a vulnerable, heartbroken monster in the middle of his own hell._

“And you’re not supposed to die yet.”

Then she sharply drops the container to the ground and disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, pretty much in honor of winner's soso that triggers a LOT of prompts. i'm sorry it took quite a long time...


	4. Chapter 4

**3 – nightmares ; shadows**

** \\\ jinwoo **

He doesn’t know how long they’d been walking and walking, Seunghoon pulling his wrist—until he hears a cry echo out to the sky. A long, pained, broken howl piercing through the gray morning.

His feet pause, the howl sounding so familiar—and painful.

“What…what was that?” he asks to no one in particular, head turning towards the direction of that noise.

He hasn’t noticed that Seunghoon has also stopped walking, one of his hands still on the handle of his axe. Yet he catches the small frown that crosses the taller man’s face, a semblance of pity and worry in his eyes.

“Minho,” is all that comes out of Seunghoon’s lips, face blank, emotionless.

“Minho?”

Seunghoon gives him a meaningful look, sharp and dangerous. At the same time, Jinwoo sees a faint trace of sympathy in his usually merciless gaze, a hint of humanity in his monstrous façade.

It doesn’t take long for Jinwoo to get the message, and he feels tears prick his eyes. He feels them flow down to his cheeks, feels sobs about to bubble forth from his throat.

_N-no…Seungyoon…Yoonie…NO—!!!!_

Seunghoon pulls his wrist once more. “Let’s go now, Jinwoo.”

And Jinwoo just lets him be, as the rain starts to pour down heavily against them.

-

He doesn’t know where they are right now.

All he knows is that they’re currently outside the city, living in a small apartment by themselves. Seunghoon had only told him that it was better if they stayed here for a while, that nothing will bother them—_Jinwoo,_ to be more precise.

(When Jinwoo was about to ask about Minho, Seunghoon—as if he knew what was on his mind—emphasized that it was safer if it were just the two of them. 

Jinwoo kept quiet after that.)

Moreover, he has noticed that Seunghoon goes out less this time, taking fewer jobs and staying within the apartment as much as possible. He doesn’t dare ask him, knowing that Seunghoon will just evade all his questions.

So he tries. Tries to live normally as possible, acting clueless and blissfully ignorant as he blindly follows Seunghoon. Takes the meds for Seunghoon’s sake, hears all his endless complaints about the shitty world they’re still trapped in, lets Seunghoon fuck him into oblivion every night.

Still, Jinwoo knows that this isn’t yet the start of a ‘peaceful’ life, not when he’s still under the Beast’s control.

Not when his past nightmares still scare the living shit out of him.

-

_Would it be easy,_ Jinwoo wonders sometimes at night, _if Seunghoon would just swing his axe to cut off my head while I’m asleep—?_

-

His musings come to life a few days later.

Jinwoo senses danger even from a far distance, something he’d learned over the days he’d been staying with Minho and Seunghoon. He knows if that danger is meant for someone, or for him.

And he definitely knows if that danger is something he cannot run away from, as it will be from the Beast—

He feels himself getting rammed up against the wall, dragged by the collar. 

Then a sharp kick against his abdomen, intensified by the boot the Beast’s wearing—

“FUCK YOU!”

_—what?_

_ **“Are you trying to fucking kill me now, Kim Jinwoo?!”** _

_—just what is he talking about—?_

And then he feels his body flying towards the other side of the kitchen—no, towards the living room. His body aches so much; he can already see bruises starting to bloom on his pale skin.

He can already see Lee Seunghoon’s glare at him with so much fury—if looks can kill, Jinwoo’d be probably be ashes by now.

Seunghoon leans down towards him, his mien an expression of real, unadulterated rage, and hisses menacingly, “Y’wanna have that fate with Seungyoon, I see. You should’ve told me a little earlier, my angel.”

And punches his jaw squarely, not even giving Jinwoo a chance to save himself.

As confused and terrified as Jinwoo is now, he tries to struggle. He strains his body to rise despite the hellish pain, coughing out blood and spit. He tries to make sense of the Beast’s sudden, irrational ire, tries to understand why—

“What…why…” is all that comes out of his mouth, weakened by the agony he feels.

Seunghoon’s—no, the Beast’s—dark laughter echoes throughout the apartment. “Don’t fucking act coy now, little angel,” he spits. “Not when you tried to kill me!”

_W…_

_….what...?_

“Oh, don’t show me that face, it won’t help you,” Seunghoon smiles, and oddly it makes Jinwoo think of the angel of death smiling at him. 

Or a crazed demon, probably.

“That juice from earlier. Orange juice? Rings a bell now?” he continues in a dangerous, sing-song tone.

Juice. Orange juice. Orange juice—

_“Well, I just had a lot to spare,” the pretty woman giggles shyly, handing him packets of powdered orange juice. “And come on, they’re for free! Don’t you think your boyfriend will like it if he drinks at least one?”_

_Jinwoo blushes at her comment. “But miss—”_

_“But you drank a sample! Tastes like real orange, right?! Come on, they’re my treat!” she insists, smiling gleefully. Her perfect features glow in the sunlight, like an angel—_

“Yes, that orange juice,” Seunghoon’s voice brings him back to the present. “Did you think I’m that kind of an idiot, Jinwoo? It wasn’t orange juice.”

But—

_“It tastes good!” Jinwoo comments, looking at the woman in surprised delight. “But why are you sharing it with me?”_

_The pretty woman smiles. Her fashion’s odd—black coat, black dress, black boots—but she has a lovely, warm smile. “Because you’re pretty, like me,” she says. “And you liked what I gave you.”_

—was it not juice, though?

“No,” Seunghoon tells him, as if he hears his thought. “It’s orange juice mixed with sulfur and cyanide powder, Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo’s heart stops. 

Yet—

Seunghoon doesn’t give him a chance to speak. Or explain himself. Instead, he kicks him once more, one on his side, the other on his leg.

It hurt, it hurt, goddamn it _motherfucking hurt_—!!

“Yes, scream for me, Jinwoo,” Seunghoon grins. “Scream like you’re scared of me—only for _me_.”

_This sick—!_

Jinwoo struggles to crawl away from him, ignoring the torture inflicted to him. Ignores the blood trickling down his gashes, ignores the sprain he feels from his muscles.

Ignores the chilling fear snaking down his spine as Seunghoon reaches out for his axe.

“IT WASN’T MY INTENTION!” he finally cries out, tears smarting his eyes. It’s a dumb decision, a move that will probably kill him. Yet he continues, “I didn’t know what it was—I thought it was just orange juice and that’s it!”

Seunghoon stills for a second, dumbstruck at his actions. But he doesn’t lower his axe.

“Please believe me—it wasn’t, really!” Jinwoo begs. Pleads more than how he’d begged for Mama not to push him through another round of pigs eating his flesh, more than how he’d begged for this man not to kill Mama that night in Lotus. “I swear it isn’t—why the fuck would I do that?!”

Seunghoon’s eyes narrow dangerously, and Jinwoo feels as if his heart is being pricked by a million ice needles.

Jinwoo’s tears never stopped from coursing down his cheeks, trembling nonstop. He was so afraid, terrified even.

He doesn’t know—_he fucking swore he didn’t know it was poison meant to kill Seunghoon_—but it is a mistake to believe that woman’s words that she meant well for him—

Jinwoo finally crumbles to the pain, still sobbing, his head down. He’d never been this afraid before; he’d seen the worst of the city before even meeting Seunghoon and not once had he ever flinched. 

He’d seen the Beast in his most furious self yet still braved his fears and held his wrist to stop him from killing Mama.

But now—now that he’d done a mistake—all he can do is to beg and plead and ask for mercy. Forgiveness from a demon who took him away from his own Hell.

However, despite the tremors racking his system he can’t help thinking this:

It is not the death that terrified him, although it is sure to be torturous and slow with his axes.

_It is simply the thought of hurting Seunghoon that scared Jinwoo the most._

Killing the Beast who stole him away from Lotus and from Mama’s filthy claws.

_Was that even possible?_

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sobs repeatedly, his voice terrified and pleading. He doesn’t care if Seunghoon would find it annoying, or if Seunghoon will dare raise his axe and chop off an arm or his head.

As long as Seunghoon would know, would realize, that Jinwoo meant no harm, that he is telling the truth—

He hears Seunghoon swinging an axe up, and Jinwoo squeezes his eyes shut. Is this it? Is this his end?

Will this be how he dies?

Will this be how he would have his own freedom?

…

Nothing happened. The axe is still on the Beast’s hand.

Is he waiting for the perfect timing? Or does he want Jinwoo to feel more fear, just to satisfy his thirst for blood?

Jinwoo closes his eyes in resignation, tears still flowing.

_If this is how I die, then let it be quick._

_Just like Seungyoon’s._

…

…the axe falls to the wooden floor, the blade buried deep. Just a few inches away from Jinwoo’s fingers.

Jinwoo looks up in shock, wondering what happened.

All he sees is Seunghoon’s blank face, his eyes questioning and confused as he stares down at him.

_“I can’t kill you.”_

Jinwoo’s eyes widen at his words, shock and something akin to relief filling his system.

“I can’t kill you,” Seunghoon says again, his voice lost. “I can’t kill you, Jinwoo.”

Jinwoo remains quiet, wondering about his words. Wondering if he is dreaming or this is just a hallucination from all the pills he’d swallowed before.

“I’m angry and mad and shocked and insulted and my fingers really fucking itch to hold my fucking axe or just motherfucking strangle you until you can’t breathe—” Seunghoon pauses, breathless.

—and then his expression turns into something Jinwoo has never seen before—a vulnerable, fearful expression on his usually arrogant, murderous face.

“But I can’t kill you, Jinwoo,” Seunghoon whispers, falling down on his knees in front of him. Slowly, he caresses Jinwoo’s face with his fingers.

“Why.” Seunghoon still sounds so lost, as if he can’t comprehend what was going on. “Aren’t I supposed to kill you? Aren’t I supposed to be swinging my axe to hurt you so? Aren’t I supposed to be the _Beast_ you desperately hate?”

Jinwoo only stares at him helplessly, pondering at the other man’s reactions. He is the _Beast_, true. Jinwoo had seen him kill so many times already, he’d seen him drenched in blood and madness and all things vile.

But he is also _Lee Seunghoon_, the same man who whispered bits of his past at night, of his favorite pastime other than killing, and why he learned how to cook…

Deliberately, he reaches out to touch Seunghoon’s face, as if trying to grasp his only hope of salvation. His tears never stop, even the quivers in his body.

But still, he had to try. Even if this will mean his death.

“You are the Beast,” Jinwoo whispers. “But you are also Lee Seunghoon. Hell knows that killing you—” both flinch at his words, “—will not be an option for _me_, but ending me will be a choice for _you_.”

** // seunghoon **

“You are the Beast,” Jinwoo whispers to him, eyes tortured and red. “But you are also Lee Seunghoon. Hell knows that killing you—” both flinch at his words, “—will not be an option for _me_, but ending me will be a choice for _you_.”

Seunghoon gasps at his words. They aren’t exactly unexpected—Seunghoon had seen this coming—but hearing them coming out from Jinwoo’s pretty lips…

_Why does it hurt?_

Seunghoon suddenly grabs the back of Jinwoo’s head and kisses him roughly, his lips nearly bruising the other’s. It’s a violent dance of tongues and lips and ragged breaths, with Seunghoon tasting Jinwoo’s tears as they kiss.

_And unexpectedly—_

Seunghoon brushes his lips against Jinwoo’s damp cheeks, kissing his tears away.

_seeing him cry—_

Jinwoo pulls back a little, surprised by his actions. “Seunghoon?”

_—hurts._

“Don’t cry,” Seunghoon finds himself whispering, his voice sounding as if it isn’t his.

Jinwoo’s eyes are wide and are still pleading, as if asking for forgiveness, emphasizing he never wanted to kill him.

He finds it impossible to be true.

…

Yet he wants to believe him.

-

Later that night, as Seunghoon watches Jinwoo sleep from outside their bedroom, his fingers itch for something. Ache for something. Like blood dripping from his fingertips, the wooden handles against his callused skin—

_“It wasn’t my intention!” Jinwoo had cried out—his angel crying so much, so so much his eyes were already red and swollen—stopping him midway._

_—and oh god how the world did burn in his eyes, the urge to kill him intensifying tenfold—_

_“I didn’t know what it was—I thought it was just orange juice and that’s it!” his angel continues, now sobbing helplessly. His beautiful eyes were wide with fear, so unlike the fear he’d seen that night he let himself loose in Lotus._

_As if he was afraid—well, he **should** be—but not of death, probably._

_His sobs proved that._

_Yet why, as he’d inched closer to him, why did the urge stop? It morphed into something else, something he couldn’t identify, so foreign, so strange—_

—wait.

_This isn’t me_, Seunghoon realizes. _Shouldn’t be Jinwoo dead now, with my axes or with my knives?_

But—

With a sharp, strong kick the wooden table crashes onto the wall—_“Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!!” _—the plates and glasses breaking into smaller pieces—_“Motherfucking pieces of goddamn ass shit!!” _—as they tumble down the floor. Then with a shove all the pots and pans clang down; the kitchen curtains are ripped into shreds—_“Fuck it fuck it fuck it **MOTHERFUCKING FUCK IT!!!**”_—the walls shake slightly as he punches over and over again, not caring for the sting and the blood on his knuckles.

Seunghoon’s body shakes in pure fury, the monster in him starving for a kill.

Thirsty for the blood.

A pale neck between his hands, squeezing the windpipe so firm and tight until he couldn’t breathe—

_—the image of Jinwoo crying as he pleaded mercy and repeated he had no intention of killing him entered his mind, making him pause for a second._

And he was enraged all over again, this time flinging knives and his axes towards nowhere.

“FUUUUUUUCKKKKK!” he snarls out in frustration. “YOU PIECE OF WORTHLESS SHIT! YOU DISGUSTING PIG!! YOU DISGUSTING—!!”

He pauses. Again.

Jinwoo is no shit. Not even a pig. He is an angel among demons, an innocent among sinners.

He is his Jinwoo. No one else.

And yet—oh god, and yet—

_“I swear,” he’d blubbered, and Seunghoon had sworn he’d never seen Jinwoo shed tears like this before. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t.”_

Seunghoon feels his knees weaken, then crumble to the floor. For some reason his vision becomes blurry, as if staring at the hell he’d made in front of him through a rainy window.

“I can’t kill you,” he hears himself whisper brokenly. “I can’t kill Jinwoo. I can’t kill him.”

But why was it easy for Minho? 

Why was it easy for him to slice Seungyoon’s head off—?

-

He suddenly remembers that inhuman howl that echoed within the city as the rain poured down, sounding so hollowed and pained.

He remembers how Minho had stared at Seungyoon as the latter talked, eyes softening and crinkling at the edges.

He remembers how Minho smiled at Seungyoon, a smile he hadn’t seen before.

-

He remembers Minho’s words from before, “Hyung, you’re more fucking bearable now ever since your boytoy came in here.”

-

Seunghoon gazes at Jinwoo’s sleeping face, eyelids still red and swollen from crying too much.

Ever so slowly, he caresses his angel’s clammy cheek with his fingertips, down to the side of his neck.

It will be so easy, really, to wrap his fingers around his neck and strangle him until he chokes of death.

But he feels no bloodlust. No anger.

Only…a clench in his chest. A million pricks he cannot understand.

But it is _painful_.

Seunghoon didn’t like it.

“…so…sorry…” he hears Jinwoo mumble in his sleep. “…really…didn’t want…hurt…you…”

The pain intensifies, and Seunghoon can’t help rubbing his chest.

_It hurt._

He doesn’t know how, but he finds himself leaning down and brushing his lips against Jinwoo’s bruised temple.

_He’d hurt too much._

_It hurt._

“Okay,” he breathes against his skin. “Okay.”

Jinwoo snuggles close to him, and the pain in his chest slowly subsides.

-

—murder.

No, Seunghoon grasps as he runs closer, axes ready by his sides for combat. Not murder.

A bloody fight. It’s closer than he’d initially thought; he can already smell the scent of blood and death in the air.

The music of katanas singing and guns being fired—

_—katanas?_

_Probably Minho—?_

A pained cry echoes through the night, and it is not Minho’s. A female cry, a cry so familiar it brings goosebumps to his skin—

He quickly sprints up the building, cursing every step, forcing his feet to jump higher before it’s too late. As soon as he reaches the last step he kicks the rooftop door open, and the sight in front of him freezes him momentarily.

A beautiful woman in black, holding two Kimber Custom TLE/RL II guns with suppressors in both hands, her blonde hair dancing in the air. 

And she’s aiming for the crumpled woman in front of her, holding her katanas loosely, her clothes torn and bloody.

His heart stops, recognizing her.

“Sunye?”

Both women turn towards him in surprise—but it is Sunye who catches his attention.

Her expression changes from that of pain—to a look of absolute astonishment.

“S-Seunghoon?” she stutters, tears starting to flow from her eyes. “Y-You’re a-alive?”

He blinks at her, puzzled. “What the fuck are you talking about, Sunye?”

She lets out a laugh—a shocked, incredulous burst of laughter—and struggles to stand up. “Oh, god—you fucker, I thought you were dead.”

_The fuck is she saying about me dead—_

“How are you still fucking alive?” the blonde one hisses, angry eyes narrowing into slits. “You should’ve been dead by now, with fucking foam on your mouth!”

_Okay, what the fuck is going on?!_

“That woman tried to kill you, Seunghoon,” Sunye explains, a little breathless as she stands, a katana supporting her weight. “Through someone close to you—I guess, since that’s her usual MO.”

_Tried to kill me? Through someone close to me—_

It takes a second before he fully comprehends the situation.

“Oh-ho,” he nods to himself in understanding. “Are ya that bitch who gave Jinwoo that fucking juice?”

The sharp hiss erupting from the blonde woman confirms his hunch.

“Juice?” he hears Sunye ask softly, yet he chooses to ignore her.

“Ah-ha, I see. Sorry, missy, I happen to have a sharp sense of smell—there’s a fuckass difference between citrus and cyanide, y’know,” he smirks mockingly, twirling his axes with his fingers. 

The blonde grits her teeth in irritation, then aims one of her guns at Seunghoon. “How annoying,” she spits.

“But—hey, aren’t ya that lady from before?” Seunghoon asks, now recognizing her. “The one being chased by thugs?”

“Yeah, and so?” she cocks an eyebrow. The itch to throw one of his axes right straight on her pretty forehead burns more, but he holds himself.

For some strange reason, his instincts are telling him that this is one woman he shall not just play with.

“What the fuck did I do to earn such reward?” he asks instead.

The blonde grins, eyes twinkling in mischief. A sudden change of mood. “Well, why don’t you ask your beloved sister about that?”

He stills, as if struck by electricity. _What—how the fuck—?!_

“So you now fucking know, huh,” Sunye spits, ambling slowly towards his side. “Still playing fucking dirty like a blessed saint. You’re really fucking serious about this, pretty Rabbit.

“What in the motherfucking hell is going on, Sunye?!” he hisses at her, glaring. “Did you somehow mess up another shit again?”

“Somewhat, probably—fuck it, gonna explain it later, all right?” Sunye huffs, rolling her eyes then crouching down. An offensive stance—a stance Seunghoon knows all too well.

“I need to kill this bitch first—I hate being played at, really,” she grins. “Might as well stay put, Seunghoon.”

“No, _you_ stay fucking put, Sunye,” he stops her, stepping forward. “This pretty bitch tried to kill me—”

“—and I really hate anyone who dares to kill my primary target first,” he adds, sauntering towards the blonde.

“Primary target?” the blonde asks, a little confused.

“I wouldn’t dare underestimate her, Seunghoon,” Sunye says at the same time. “She’s a more experienced killer than you and Minho combined.”

“Even better,” he says merrily. “At least I get to have some fun tonight.”

-

His sister’s right—this blonde, whoever she is, isn’t some easy fish to skewer.

Everything happens too fast Seunghoon almost can’t catch up; although he’d faced and killed hitmen armed with guns, all of his experiences seemingly went to waste as he tries to dodge the blonde woman’s sharp bullets.

Not to mention that she is unharmed by all the knives he’d thrown at her, missing just an inch or two. Meanwhile, he has lost count of all the bullets that managed to graze his skin.

This isn’t going good, Seunghoon knows that. One wrong move and a bullet may end up in his skull, even if he manages to take a swipe with his axes—

“Seunghoon!” he hears Sunye call out from behind. It’s the first time he hears her voice ever since he’d fought with the blonde—and he gets the message just fine.

_Fuck it._

“Just give up for now, Beast,” the blonde grins. “If your sister can’t even kill me, I doubt you can,” she taunts.

“Fucking shut up,” he snaps, flinging out several jagged knives at her direction—

—to which, of course, she manages to dodge just perfectly—

_Bingo._

Seunghoon takes the split-second opportunity to chuck a single knife towards her, aiming for her right wrist.

By some miracle, it does, resulting in a small fountain of blood and a sharp “Fuck!” along with the clattering of a gun falling to the concrete floor.

But he can’t bring it in himself to be smug by it. He takes that chance to sprint towards his bloody sister and carry her in his arms.

“You fucking bastard, I’ll really kill you this time—!” she screeches.

Yet she doesn’t finish. 

Sunye fishes out what remains of her tear gas, throws them to the ground, then—

Seunghoon leaps towards the nearest rooftop and speeds away back to his temporary apartment.

“You’ll explain every-_fucking_-thing, Lee Sunye,” he growls quietly at his sister. “Or else I’ll really hack off your head in your sleep.”

“Fine,” she huffs. “And don’t run too fast—the Rabbit isn’t a sniper, you know.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

-

_Rabbit?_

Where had he heard that one?

-

“Oh yeah,” Hanbin had told him once in passing after agreeing to a deal. “Be careful, though. Heard that the Rabbit’s back in town.”

“Who the fuck is this Rabbit?” Seunghoon had asked, clueless.

Hanbin had blinked at him, as if caught off-guard with his question. Then he sighs, saying, “Ignorance is bliss, Seunghoon-sshi, but I’d tell you this—that lovely witch can kill in a blink of an eye, with a bewitching smile on her face.”

Seunghoon had frowned, turning to leave the shop. “You make it sound like she’s some fucking succubus, Hanbin.”

He chuckles. “Because she is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for some reason, i really felt quite heavy after finishing up this chapter.


End file.
